


It's Not Your Fault

by Asimpledotdotdot



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Friendship/Love, M/M, Nature, No Means No, Rape/Non-con Elements, Semi-graphic, Strength, Triggers, rapey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-03
Updated: 2014-06-03
Packaged: 2018-02-03 06:18:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1734203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asimpledotdotdot/pseuds/Asimpledotdotdot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A quick break from my other fic, "Signs". Had an idea and thought I'd get it down.<br/>Basically Michael is trying to get Dean to do something and Castiel steps in to defend him. Dean realizes just how weak he is and finds his inner strength.<br/>Parallels Michael trying to force a yes out of Dean in the main plot, and Castiel stepping in and helping. Some elements such a the nature analogy are similar to the book Speak.<br/>This also emphasizes the definition of no and the importance of understanding that and how anyone could potentially end up in such a situation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: there are triggers for rape and some abuse. Semi-graphic, nothing is shown but kissing and groping, a little handsy through clothing.
> 
> Please continue with your own caution.

I find Michael at my locker. School's just getting out and I'm heading to grab my things. He looks up as I approach. "Hey," I smile.

"Hey yourself," he replies, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards. As I open my locker, he leans against the one next to me. I look up once I grab my notebook and find him looking down at his shoes. I furrow my brows, confused. A few moments pass as I wait for him to form his sentences. "I was, you know, wondering," he pauses. "Do you wanna, maybe... I dunno," he bites his lip, fidgeting with his keys as he leans his back on the metal. God it's adorable how nervous he is. I know what he's trying to say and I have to bite my lip from letting out a laugh. A light blush creeps up his neck. He sighs, swallows away his anxiety, and his eyes meet mine. He finally asks, "Do you wanna go see a movie with me Friday night?"

 _Finally_ , I mutter in my head. Michael and I had become friends over the last few weeks, studying together once we were paired up in chemistry. I had started to realize my feelings for him. Then I started noticing small things, his hand brushing mine, his eyes lingering longer than was appropriate. I had been hoping he would ask me out for at least a week and a half. I was hoping he'd do this before spring break, if he were to do it at all. Otherwise I'd have to, and I was  _not_ good at these things.

I smile, my stomach fluttering. _Play it cool_ , I tell myself. With a gasp, I pull my hand to my chest in fake surprise. "Are-are you asking me out?" I widen my eyes, faking disbelief. He nudges me playfully with a chuckle. A grin slowly spreads across my face.

He stands waiting for an answer. How should I play this? Hmm.

"Definitely." I smile eagerly. Then squint my eyes a little. "Maybe." I pause, ignoring the look he's giving me and I pretend to think hard. "I'll have to think about it." A grin spreads across his lips, a twinkle in his eye. I add a playful wink.

"Is that a yes?" He joins me as I start for the parking lot.

"What do you think," I nudge him with my shoulder, looking up at his triumphant smile, laced with a little disbelief.

"Pick you up at 6?" He states rather than asks.

"It's a date then," I nod and wave goodbye as I reach my car. I let out a soft laugh, thinking over the last five minutes.

 

Friday finally rolls around, the days dragging on slowly. After class I head to the library to finish my homework, not wanting to spend spring break catching up on my late work. I get home and find Sam packing an overnight bag. "What's that for?" I drop my things on the table beside the front door.

He looks up. "We're going over to Bobby's for the weekend." 

Surprised, I ask, "What?"

He looks at me. "Dad didn't tell you?" I shake my head, a little confused. "Dad's leaving for Chicago over spring break. He wanted me to go camping with you and Bobby, since he had promised before he swept away by work." Sam pauses. "You don't remember that?"

I remember him saying we should go camping to kick off spring break, but I didn't think he'd follow through, he never does. I sigh, running my fingers through my messy hair. "I didn't think he actually meant it." Sammy tilts his head. I pinch the bridge of my nose. Dammit, I curse myself. "It slipped my mind I guess," I pause thinking about my date tonight. I was going to have to cancel. Michael had finally asked me out and I was going to have to cancel. Plus I don't even want to go camping this weekend. I want to unwind and relax. I let out a long breath.

"What's wrong," Sam asks, sensing my frustration.

"I have a date tonight," I frown. "And I have to cancel now." Sammy looks at me, surprised. Then his look changes, an idea forming in his mind.

"Do you even want to go camping?" He asks, squinting his eyes.

"Honestly, not in the slightest." I admit, scratching the back of my neck.

"Well, then it'll just be Bobby and me." He smiles, waiting for an answer.

"You sure man?" I ask, not wanting to ditch them but not wanting to join them either.

"Yah, it's fine. When's your date?"

I look at my watch, 5:30. "Shit," I mumble. "Thirty minutes."

Sam laughs. "Go get ready!" He pushes me towards the stairs.

I smile, so thankful Sammy understands. "Thanks, bitch."

"Hurry up, jerk." He smiles and heads out the door.

I take a nice shower, the day washing off my skin. I get dressed, dark jeans, a brown leather jacket and a dark tee. I pause, looking over myself in the mirror on my door. Maybe I should go for a little more than my every-day wear. It is our first date. I shrug off the jacket, finding a clean dark blue flannel. I button it over my dark tee, leaving the top buttons undone. I pull on some dark but clean boots. I ruffle my hair a bit and there's a knock on the door downstairs. I smile, satisfied. 

I open the door to see a Michael. Instead of his usual tan jacket, he's swapped it out for a sea-green Oxford, top buttons undone, under a black hoodie. It's casual, but he cleans up nice. I don't realize I'm staring until he speaks. "Does it look that bad?" he blushes, looking at his hands.

"No, not at all," I laugh and follow him to the car, shutting the door behind me. "Where are my flowers?" I demand jokingly.

"Oh," he chokes, a little confused and upset.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding." I laugh as we get into his beat up Ford truck. He gives a small laugh. I look at him, my fingers fidgeting. Why am I nervous? "So," I stutter. "When's the movie start?"

 

We get there early, sitting and chatting through the previews. I lean closer as we talk. I can smell his light cologne, a hint of mint under something earthy. His smile makes my stomach flip flop. The movie starts and we sit back and watch it.

Halfway through, we're at the scene where the guy finally gets with the girl, I feel Michael shift in the seat next me. Is he going to make a move? I try to focus on the movie. Is he gonna yawn? He yawns, stretching out his arm. I bite my lip as his arm rest around me, hand resting on my shoulder. I lean into him with a blush. I can't believe he did the yawn. I like feeling him next to me though.

Throughout the movie, his fingers trail down my arm, resting on my shoulder. He stops and then a few minutes later, he starts up again. I like his touch. I rest my hand on his knee. I don't want him getting any idea though, but he rests his other hand on mine, taking my fingers in his. My breathing picks up slightly, and I can hear my heart beating. Unless that's his. I am pretty close to his chest. I smile, leaning into him, enjoying this.

The movie ends and he guides me out, holding my hand. When I look down at our laced fingers, he asks, "Is this alright?" 

"Yah, no. This is nice." I assure him. We get a few looks but I don't care and neither does he. He opens the door for me and we head to his truck. It's chilly out, his arm instinctively wraps around my waist, pulling me closer for warmth. He once again opens the car door for me. We turn up the heat and start the car.

When he doesn't turn onto my street, I look at him questioningly. "I wanna show you something," he smiles back at me.

We pull up to a clearing above the city. You can see the lights twinkling from the secluded spot. I take a deep breathe, admiring the view.

"I come up here sometimes to clear my head." He rests one hand on the steering wheel, the other finding my hand. "Do you like it?" He turns his head to face me.

"It's beautiful," I admit, never knowing this spot existed. 

He inches closer to me, his old truck combines the driver and passenger seats into a long bench. I help close the distance as his hand moves to my shoulder, his arm bringing me in close. "Dean," he breathes softly, his voice deep. I meet his eyes. "I forgot to tell you how good you looked tonight." I smile, a hot red creeping up my neck.

"You clean up nice as well." I admit, his eyes moving down from mine, inching over my partially undone flannel, to my dark jeans, and back up.

"That's not what I meant," he mumbles, his voice dangerously low. "You look  _really_ good tonight." He leans closer, inches away. My stomach flutters. His arm brings me in and his dry lips meet mine. I return the kiss, surrendering to his lips, tasting the dry flesh. We pull away for air and our eyes lock. Again, his lips crush into mine, more urgent this time. I push into him, my tongue trailing and parting his lips. His tongue trails over mine as the kisses become more passionate. His mouth hungry, eyes sizing me up, hands feeling me out.

Before long, we're tangled up in each other, hands wild and fingers splayed through hair. God, he smells so good, his hands feel amazing. He kisses me against the window, my body beneath his. His lips find my neck and kiss my ear. I moan slightly and he likes that. His lips trail up and down my neck before I attempt to slow it down. As good as it feels, I'd rather it be slow and meaningful. Oh I like him rough, but he's better when he's gentle. 

He takes the hint, hands gingerly cupping my cheeks, pulling me, sitting back up beside him. His thumb brushes my cheek, tongue careful and cautious. I almost collapse beneath his caresses, returning them with soft and slow kisses. Our lips calm, as my heart slows and I catch my breath. What a rush. What a high.

He pulls his lips away, his forehead against mine, eyes closed. "Damn, Dean," he breathes. A slight smile turns up his lips as he gives me one more gentle kiss.

He takes me home, walking me to the door. "I had a really good time tonight," I smile at his arm wrapping around my waist. I lean into him, planting another kiss on his lips. 

"Me too," he whispers back. I think about the situation. I have the house to myself, we can do whatever we want, and nothing can stop us. But it's only our first date and I don't want to rush things or have him think I'm clingy. He'd understand if I didn't want to do anything just yet. I doubt he wanted to either.

"Listen," I start, his body flush against mine. "I'd like to keep this up, ya know," I blush. "Dating you, going out, whatever it is."

He nods. "I was going to ask you but you've already answered my question." He smiles and kisses my cheek.

"If I invite you in, can you promise things won't get... ya know," I trail off, not knowing what I'm saying.

"Curling up and watching another movie sounds nice." He smiles and I usher him inside.

We curl up on the couch, watching movies, occasionally kissing. I like cuddling with him, he doesn't seem to mind. He lays on the couch holding me as I start to fade, tired from the day, blissful from his company. We fall asleep cuddling on the couch.

I wake up in the morning, Michael sound asleep. I think of last night, his arms around me, his lips upon me, and I smile. I slowly crawl out of his arms to make some breakfast. When he wakes up he joins me in the kitchen, smiling as he watches me fry some eggs. "I didn't know you cooked," he says. I laugh.

"You call this cooking?" I point to the stove and the scrambled eggs. "This is nothing." I smile, walking towards him, scraping eggs onto our plates. I grab some toast out of the toaster which he takes gratefully.

"I didn't expect any of this," he admits. "I thought, maybe we'd do something after the movie, but this is so much better." His smile genuine as he reaches for my hand. I lean down and kiss him. He smiles.

Not too long after breakfast, he leaves, having to go back home and clean the house up before his dad gets back. His dad's a stickler for those sorts of things.

I sit around, thinking of our time together, anticipating the next.

 

Our second date includes the same secluded spot, a picnic in the clearing, and a heated make out session in his truck. More handsy, more eager, and more rough. I don't complain. I love it but he's a little too much sometimes. God, he's great though.

 

His hand pulls on mine, gently pulling me into his body. His lips meet mine eagerly, tugging me towards the car. We had seen another movie together, although neither of us really payed much attention. It's been a week since our first date and night in. While I've enjoyed our dates and make out sessions, it's the third date, things are expected to go to the next level. I don't know if that's what I want though.

"Come on, Dean," he smiles, deviously. I follow him and get into the passenger seat.

"I enjoyed the movie," I smile at him. He starts the car and heads off. "Well, what I saw of it." I chuckle.

He smiles back. "Taking you home," he pauses, thinking through his words. "Or back to my house?" 

"Home, please." I smile. His hand meets mine and squeezes gently. I feel a little better.

He can feel my uncertainty. "I hope I'm not making you feel-"

"No, of course not," I lie, cutting him off. He wasn't trying to push me. He's just a little... impatient sometimes. I meet his eyes, wondering what he's thinking. I smile at him, holding his hand tighter, satisfied with our night together.

He parks outside my house. "Let me walk you in," he offers genuinely. I smile and get out of the car, walking with him to my door. I open it, dragging him in with a smile.

My dad still isn't back from Chicago and Sammy is off with his girlfriend for the end of spring break. My good friend Castiel is upstairs, he's been sleeping over while his house is being fumigated. Damn termites. I don't mind though. He's honestly my one best friend.

"Want anything to drink?" I offer as I walk into the kitchen.

"Some water sounds nice." Michael sits down on the couch, sprawling his arms out across the back of it. I return with some water and he takes a swig eagerly. His eyes give me a once over. I blush and he pulls me into a kiss. His lips soft but eager. I lean into his kiss, enjoying the familiar touch. I join him on the couch.

I tangle my fingers into his hair as he rolls on top of me, hands trailing down my side. I let out broken breaths and he smiles. He kisses my neck and he knows that's my sweet spot. I moan softly, only enticing him more. 

His hips grind into mine, feeling his hard-on against mine. I'm starting too feel a little uncomfortable, but I trust him. His lips find my ear, gently nibbling, driving me crazy. I pull him closer, bringing his lips to mine. His hand starts to travel lower, towards the top of my jeans. I find his hand, and delay it, holding it instead next to my head.

My tongue explores his and his hand travels beneath my shirt as I brush my hands against his skin. He tugs off my shirt, his hands roaming my chest and shoulders, down my sides. I let out a low groan as he presses his body into mine. I yank off his shirt, teasing my nails along his back. This is more than we've done before, and he's testing the waters. He nibbles on my neck, his hands travel down my side, a little lower this time.

I pull away, breaking the kiss, and meet his eyes. I give him a look, shaking my head slightly, saying  _no_. He nods begrudgingly and returns to smothering me with kisses, his mouth passionate and needy. I pull him closer, his skin incredibly cool against mine. He bites my lip and I moan. I buck up beneath him and he moans softly, kissing me harder.

It isn't too long before his hand reaches down my hip, his thumb sliding under the waist band of my jeans, his index joining and giving them a slight tug. This time I pull away and sit up. "Michael," I start but I'm cut off.

"Dean," he whines, sitting back on his heels as I sit up to face him, propping myself on my elbows.

"I don't think it's smart if we do that." I say, unable to meet his gaze.

"God, you're such a tease, Winchester." His fingers splay across my knees. He gives me a look and before I can protest, he slowly returns to kissing me. I'm not feeling it anymore and try to pull away. "No, no, no, Dean." He takes my wrists and holds them down, licking my neck, biting my ear. "I know just how much you love this," he whispers with sticky breath in my ear.

"Stop, Michael," I manage between breathes. This is completely unlike him. He ignores my protests and presses his body firmly into mine. I squirm beneath his touch. His hand travels to my crotch and I try and shake it but he won't stop. This isn't ok. I thought he understood that. "Stop it!" I say loudly.

"Hey!" A voice growls from the stairs.

Michael's neck snaps up, a devious grin tipping the corners of his mouth. "Go away, geek, the grown ups are just playing a game." He smirks at Castiel nastily, trailing his eyes along my body. This has gone too far. I can't believe this. His grip is so strong and I can't do anything. Fear pools in my stomach. My throat tightens and I can barely breathe. I open my mouth to speak but he quickly covers it with a hard kiss. I whimper, trembling. I shake and turn my head to the side. 

"Stop it, Michael," I growl, frustrated as I try moving my legs from beneath him, but he has me pinned. I don't want to do this. I feel sickened by his hand rubbing my crotch. What's gotten into him? Has this been his idea all along? To get me to sleep with him, and if I didn't consent, to prove that he could get me in bed either way? I hear footsteps that Michael seems to ignore.

"Deannn," he groans, biting my ear again. The shiver he sends up my spine is no longer one of pleasure.

"Hey, assbutt!" Castiel yells, yanking him off me and pulling him towards the door. "You should leave. Now." His voice strong, angry, and stern. 

"Oh, how cute." He teases, yanking his arm from Castiel's grip and yanks his shirt out of Castiel's other hand. "The geek has a crush." He looks to me as I catch my breath, sitting up, wiping my mouth, rubbing my wrists. "I see how it is Winchester." He growls and stomps out the door. Castiel closes the door behind him, locking it and joins me on the couch.

He sits next to me as I rest my head on my hands, my elbows on my knees, feeling dizzy. What had just happened? What was this terrible feeling in my gut? Why couldn't I get him to stop? Why _didn't_ he stop? A hesitant hand gently touches my knee. I almost flinch at the touch but soon smile at it's comfort.

"I'm sorry about that," I barely whisper, voice hoarse from my previous protesting. His hand moves to my shoulder as he scoots closer.

"Dean," he says softly, in his low gravely voice. "Don't you dare apologize." His other hand comes up to my face as he leans down, trying to meet my eyes. "That was not your fault, you hear?" His voice is so gentle, his touch so tender. 

"I'm such an idiot," I mumble, looking away from him. I thought Michael actually liked me. But the signs were there. He always seemed to push a little more than I was comfortable with. But I let him.

"Dean, you do understand that was all Michael. You said stop and he didn't." Castiel's voice is stern but soft.

I lean into him, biting my lip. I feel like this is all my fault. He holds me close as I silently shudder. "I knew something was off but-"

"Stop it," Castiel insists. "I'm sorry  _you_  had to go through that. No one ever should." He's quiet for a moment, his hand running up and down my arm in comfort. "Let's get to bed, ok?"

"Ok," I breathe, following him upstairs, shaking away the events that had just occurred in disbelief.

He leads me to my room, letting me change and then coming back in his own sleep wear. He knows something I don't. Like how to handle this pit inside of me.

"Thank you," I mumble, embarrassed by him having to step in. I get into bed and Castiel leaves to sleep on the ground when I reach out and gently grab his arm. "Cas," I whisper. "I don't want to be alone," I need to feel the comfort of a friend, of another person, of a sane mind. He just nods, a small smile and soft eyes reassuring me that it's ok, that he's here. He get's into bed and holds me close as I finally find some peace and drift off to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

I wake up still wrapped in Castiel's arms, my head against his rising and falling chest. He looks so peaceful and content. I smile and stay still. I close my eyes and cherish his touch. His kindness. His love. His understanding.

His heart thumps softly below my ear. Feeling the beat of another heart warms me. I don't know what it is. Maybe knowing I'm not alone. Knowing that in this moment everything is alright. Knowing just by simple human contact that love exists.

I let out a breath I didn't know I had been holding. Thoughts from last night flow into my head. I close my eyes tight, trying to block out Michael's smirk, his power over me. I try to push away my helplessness and the sudden fear in my stomach. My gut tightens and I realize my hand is gripping Castiel's side hard. My head is pressed to his chest and I turn into him as I shake away the fear. His arms wrap around me, as I had accidentally woken him up. He doesn't say a word, just holds me there, letting my body tremble.

His hand smooths over my clenched fist, calming my shaking arm. With his other hand he brushes over my hair, soothing my thoughts. His affection quiets the roar inside my chest, relaxes the tightening of my gut, fills the hole threatening to devour everything around it. I breathe slowly, snuggling into him. I need this right now. I need him. I need to know everything is ok.

Castiel insists we get out of the house and do something fun. I go along, liking the company and enjoying some fresh air. He drags me on a hike, but we really just walk around through trees, along the lake, and laugh at tourists reading upside down maps with confused looks on their faces.

He takes me to a big rock, it's smooth stone jutting over the lake. While I've only been to this National Park a few times, I've never been to this part of it. It's secluded, though it looks over the entire lake. Trees sprout up along the shore, hills turning to mountains behind them. It's not hot out, but cloudy as the sun tries to shine through.

I climb up the rock and sit next to him. His eyes stare off into the distance, entranced by the beauty surrounding us. My heart is warm as his eyes meet mine. I brush my hand against his and hold his hand in mine. "Thank you," I say softly, not clarifying what for but thanking him for everything. He gently squeezes my hand in return.

We sit for a while in silence, the only noise is the sound of the wind carrying the chirps of birds. Castiel lets out a soft sigh, dragging out his breath. "You see that," he pauses, taking in the scenery. "You see all those greens and browns, all of those trees standing strong, rooted in the earth's dirt? You see how the water barely laps against the shore, but still moves despite the calm? Do you see the small leafs, fluttering in the wind? Do you hear the crunch of dry branches and pine needles as the wind stirs them?" He pauses again. I've never really just sat in nature, observing it and enjoying its beauty. "This beauty is all around us. We walk dirt roads, paved over and forgotten by time. We breeze through seasons, never really pausing and taking it all in." His voice hints sadness, but is soon overcome with soft gratitude. "We forget where we come from, where we live, where we have made our roots. Where we have learned to grow." His words echo through my head, like drops of water in a cave.

As he points out these little things, I think of the little things that escape my mind, how although my dad is never home, he provides the house over my head, like the dirt the tall trees find root in. I think of Sam and his brilliance, how he always smiles even when there's nothing to be happy about. He always finds something to be happy about, anything, any small, tiny detail and he finds joy in it. Like the breeze between the leafs, small and fleeting, but bringing life to the stillness around. I think of the calm lake, somehow moving against the rocky shore despite its silent appearance. It reminds me of how, beneath the surface and the exterior, there's something there, something moving us a long. A quiet song we all sing. The crunch of branches and pine needles, like the crackling of bones, crushed feelings, broken ideals. But the dead leaves and branches make way for new life. 

"The seasons remind us that life is ever changing. That things get broken, fall away, wither, and die." He pauses, his blue eyes welling with some sort of understanding, a sort of happiness. "But after some time, new things grow, blossoming and growing out of what was once a desolated area." I fill with warmth at his words. His crinkled eyes turn to meet mine, filled with love and joy and an undertone of hope. His thumb brushes against my hand gently. His tipped lips remind me that there's good in everything, even the bad.

"Well, when you put it like that," I trail off, my voice hoarse and low, trying to add a chuckle but failing. I try and bring some comic relief to the situation, as I tend to do with anything serious, but he just smiles at me, knowing how much his words, his touch, his friendship, him just being here- knowing what it really means to me. I shake my head gently. "There's always going to be something, someone, that," I try to find the right word. _That pushes you down, that ignores you, that takes away your importance?_ Yes, but that's not it. The idea is implied and Castiel just nods. 

I sigh and look up at the sky. I watch as the sun peers above the clouds, shining bright and warm. "Ya know," I start. "I always act like I'm tough and fearless," I stop, furrowing my brow and thinking what I really am beneath it all. "But, honestly, I'm holding on by a thread. I've never really felt my true strength until now. I'm not tough, I'm weathered and rough, but I'm still strong." I smile, looking out over the water. "And still growing." Castiel moves closer, both hands holding mine. He just sits there with me as we look over the water and trees. While I thought that he was all I could hold onto not long ago, it's myself that I can only hold onto. Castiel helped me realize my own strength, just by being there and caring.

The fleeting memory of last night, of the helplessness and anxiety, fades and I feel stronger. I know the power I hold, the worth of myself. I can stand while the wind howls around me. I am not helpless. I am strong.

It wasn't my fault- it was never my fault. I know that now, as I face myself, my problems, my emotions. I know that as I sit with Castiel, watching the wind blow through the leaves and across the water. I close my eyes, feeling the calm serenity in this moment now. I close my eyes and breathe.


End file.
